The Attraction Of David

Chapter 18

Every day was an exercise of trying to properly sleep before the low-fi music break through the silence of our house, and then when my body finally had enough rest, most of the day was spent on the long hours of office work. By the time the grueling job was done, my body was a walking corpse who either had returned to his own house or his lover’s pad.

Too tired to eat, I would usually just drink my vitamins and sleep the hunger with cold water, and then go to bed just to repeat the entire cycle all over again. During my days off work, working out with Davion became a habit, and the avocation made my body gain some mass. The grind was real and exhausting, but at least there were better things to look forward to. My routine felt better than before.

And today, the schedule included going to his condo to spend the some time with him. It was something I always looked forward to, and the smell of his wonderful body wash and extravagant face welcomed my frazzled body with a smile when the door creaked open, enough to get a peek of the delight that was yet waiting for me.

“Hey, sexy,” he whispered, opening the door widely so I may enter. “Tiring day, is it?” he asked and took me in for a hug.

I nuzzled him, feeling the hard plane of his chest. “Yeah, I’m tired. Heavy workload, had to finish all of them today,” I answered. I inhaled him in; he smelled divine. Like all the worries of life and work had been slaked by just his heat alone.

“Wanna eat before you rest?” he asked. I answered no as we walked into his living room. “I’m glad you’re here.”

I smiled, I knew he was. He never failed to tell me that line every time I would be here. I unbuttoned my dress shirt and removed it as I sat down on the couch. “You always say that, I just noticed,” I said, untying my shoes and removing my socks.

He sat beside me, planting his lips on my shoulder blade. “Because I am. God, you smell like heaven on Earth.” He inhaled me in, making me gaze at him. “What other things have you noticed?” he asked.

I crossed my arms, garnering my answer as I looked at his face. “A lot. Things we have not talked about.”

During my stay at his place, there were quite a few things that made an impression. What food he loved, what kind of body wash he was using, his shampoo, and most notably, his taste in music. He was the type who jives to Vic Mensa’s Down on my Luck and then shifts next to Lana Del Ray’s West Coast. He just raised an eyebrow at me when I tried making a point by looking at him with a smirk. When I mentioned the eclecticism of his playlist, he said I should stop smoking which, again, was an eclectic quip on its own.

And as I did with him, he had learned a lot about me. He figured out that I was avoiding the conversation whenever it included my past. He was relentless; the topic was tempting to tackle. One thing he made clear was if he wanted it, he will work hard to have it. His smile made it obvious that we were headed to the same topic, and that it should prepare me to handle it.

“We talked a lot, it’s impossible that you have not known almost everything about my life at this point,” he said. Stan inched forward and crossed his arms, his skin touching my bared shoulder. “Tell me things we have not talked about, then?”

“I can’t think of anything,” I lied, knowing that there was something that was running through my mind since I arrived here.

“You can,” he whispered, trailing kisses on my shoulder, up to my neck. “But then again, you’re unwilling. When will you open up to me?”

I exhaled audibly. “Some other time, Stan. I promise.”

“You’re good at making promises. I want to know, I’m here. Tell me once you’re ready,” he said. He wanted to know about my childhood and my teenage years. What my fears are, what I like. It was making me feel uncomfortable.

I poised myself straight and arched my neck, my eyes focused at the high ceiling of the four walls we had always been at when we were together. I wished to say that I wanted more than what we had now. The summer was almost passing, and I yearned that our skin would feel at least the last remains of the dank air and summer sunshine from outside. Maybe iced coffee on a scorching afternoon? Dine and wine? Or if not cheap fast food? Anywhere but here.

Just anywhere where we could talk about our future and steer his mind away from digging up my past. I looked back at him. And maybe, it was not bad to ask him out.

I shifted and placed a hand on his cheek. “Do you wanna go outside? Dinner’s on me,” I said, feeling the prickle of his five o’clock shadow against my skin. “What do you think?”

The urge was uncontrollable, and delaying it again would drive me crazy. The stalling had been far too long; we needed a step forward.

He heard it, but his face was blank. I tried so hard to know what he was thinking about as I ran my hand over his skin. If thoughts were only as loud as to how ears hear voices, I would have known. They said that the eyes were the window to a man’s soul, but they weren’t; he’s good at masking what he feels, and it was one of the things I’ve learned during my stay with him. I was never good at reading facial expressions, and I hoped I had at least known even just a bit about it.

“You can say no,” I said. The silence was awkward. The moment had stretched, and he still said nothing. “I just tried. No need to say yes if you don’t feel comfortable,” I explained.

He sighed. “David, I can pay for our dinner. For whatever you want, really,” he said. A small smile formed on his lips. “But I appreciate it, that’s really nice.”

“Very vague,” I said, moving my hand to his hair. He exhaled audibly, leaning forward to plant his forehead against my neck. “Hey, you okay?”

“We’re almost on our first month, and I know we’re lacking, so lacking, David. Am I not doing well as a partner?” he asked.

“Why would you ask me that?” I chuckled. I raised his head by the chin, looking him straight in his impossibly beautiful brown irises. “You’re doing so fantastic. I should be the one who’s asking you that. I don’t think I’m doing well enough.”

He leaned his head on the couch to face me. It felt like in the world where everything goes too fast, a single look at him as he smiled seemed to be enough to slow things down. My exhaustion, my worries at work. He just took them. And it was crazy, it was inexplicable. I never knew it was possible, and I always thought of it as nothing but a whim made by people who downed copious amounts of coffee and planted their heads in paperback novels. But it was palpable. It truly felt like that while our gaze coalesced.

He was the one who captivated me, made my throat parched, gave me the feeling as if butterflies flutter over my skin… sending shivers up and down my spine. He was it. The majority of the time, it still brought a sense of fear. The thought that this was too good to be true had been ceaseless, and I guess I would always have that notion.

“You know, Stan, when we started, we’ve gone fast, too fast that I thought of this as being nothing but a whirlwind of emotions. A month had passed, and we’re here. I still learn things about you every day, and I don’t mind being this slow. Take your time, I will wait.”

“You’re very understanding. Very emotional, and sweet, and handsome. You care about your family, and you trust me even though I lied to you about my ex. It’s amazing,” he said.

“I’m just doing what I think is right. Isn’t that what I promised you?”

“I wonder why we only talked about this now,” he sighed. “It’s like all we ever did whenever we’re together is f**k like there’s no tomorrow. I hope you’re not getting tired of that, though.”

Just gazing at him made me want to rip his clothes out. He was still impeccable. His hair got longer, but his body never changed. He had been sure to keep the same glorious figure that could make the angels weep. And I kind of hated how he’s got a lot of time to focus on keeping himself healthy, while I, on the other hand, was dehydrated from the summer heat, and chained to the exhaustive pattern of work. Going to the gym only happened twice a week, and my body felt so unsure whenever it would meld with his.

“I am not. My only problem is how many hickeys you leave on my body. Stop it, we’re not teenagers anymore,” I said.

“You smell so good every time. Everything about you felt surreal, David. You’re hard to resist. I cannot stop myself.”

I wiped my eyes and recollected myself. “You’re at it again. Stop with this, you’re deluding me out of the conversation again. So, yeah, dinner or you-“

“Okay,” he interjected. He attacked my lips. His fingers tugged on my shoulders to push me lightly down onto the couch.

I groaned and peered up at him. “God, you’re fast,” I exhaled. He caged my body in between his warmth, his shirt against my bare torso.

“Open your mouth, let me taste you first,” he said. I did not get the chance to do that on my own. He caught my breath with his mouth. He prodded my tongue with his, and a small whimper of pleasure came out of me when he ran his hand over my pants.

I shifted my head, my eyes closed. “Oh, s**t,” I groaned, feeling the hard palm on my enlivened mast. “Stan, I’m tired fro-“

He took my mouth again, chuckling at his throat. His hand felt like a hot knife cutting through, melting my state of coherence as he kneaded on my rod that was aching for release in my trousers. Maneuvering my hand was hard as it was caught in between the couch and the s****l stupor. The sensation was intense, and it made my body sweat in response.

I shifted my head again when his teeth bit into my bottom lip. “God, don’t f*****g bite me,” I panted out. “Jesus, oh my god, Stan.”

“Uh-huh,” he uttered, grinding the thick protruded length of his that was jutting from his sweatpants against mine. “Can’t move?” he teased, lifting my free arm. He bit my skin, and the only response I could do was writhe under him, and a moan came after as a single movement would cause enough friction between our engorged and throbbing shafts.

“f**k, I can’t move.”

“I’ll let you go.” He ran his tongue across the surface of the skin he nipped, tracing the ridged imprints of his teeth. “But you’ll promise me that you will f*****g sleep here after we had our dinner. Fair enough?”

“f*****g hell, I have work tomorrow.”

“f**k you if you’d say no. What time is your work?” He asked. He bit my skin again, and I had to write one more damned time. The torture was hot but frustrating. He was overpowering me and I hated it.

“Afternoon, let me go, my arm’s hurting,” I pleaded. He did, pulling me into him as we sat our bodies straight up. “I’m concerned with how you yank me around, really,” I panted out.

He planted his head on my neck. “God, you’re driving me crazy. Sorry, I’ve been waiting for you all day and I can’t hold it in anymore.”

“Me, too,” I whispered. I knew he was feeling how my heart raced inside my chest and it bothered me. I felt so exposed to him. “I don’t have any clothes. Can I borrow a shirt, please?”

“Alright,” he sighed. “Where do you wanna eat?”

“Anywhere you want. I didn’t expect that you will say yes, so wherever you want. I’ll treat you, my turn.”

He pulled his face away, and it made me bunch my brows when I saw the crease on his forehead. “You’re working overtime, and you expect me to be okay with you paying for the dinner? You’re crazy if you think I would say yes.”

I rubbed a finger over my eye. “Why not? It’s just a meal, it’s not like I can’t pay for it. Does it feel weird?” I asked and smirked.

“I know you work hard, David, for your family, remember? Spend it on them, not me. I will be happy to spend for us, so don’t worry, alright? I have money.”

“It’s not about it, crazy. I just want to make you feel, well, special. It will make me happy if you will say yes.”

“No. You, asking me for a dinner out, is already enough. Why did you not think of asking me that thing before?” he asked.

“I just surmised. I thought you weren’t comfortable with it,” I said. “I thought you didn’t want to be seen around with a man in public.”

He inhaled sharply. “I even f*****g drank with an ex last week. Are you insane? Why would I say no?”

“What? I just thought that... I don’t know,—I exhaled loudly and pulled back from him to sit straight on the couch—”, you might find it weird. You said you were not yet ready. It just didn’t cross my mind, don’t blame me. Hey, why did you not tell me, anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the surprise in that?” he chuckled and stood up. “Let’s air it out outside, I’ll get you a shirt. Wanna change your underwear? You might’ve creamed yourself when I dry humped you.”

“Disgusting, really,” I said, watching his tall and muscled back as he walked into his bedroom. I sighed heavily, feeling stupid for not asking him when I could’ve done that before.

It felt like I had wasted a long expanse of time with being undecided whether I would ask him out. And the crazy part was, he was just waiting for me to do so.

A couple of minutes had passed, and he reappeared with his clothes changed. He looked dashing. His black shirt worshipped the defined muscles of his body, paired with white shorts and loafers. I couldn’t help but suppress my frustration that I ran a hand through my hair as he grinned. He looked so virile. Tall and beautiful, like he was some sort of a wet dream that was personified.

“And why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. He paused a couple of feet away from me, holding a peach-colored plain shirt. He tossed it at me and I caught it. “You don’t mind the color, do you?”

“I don’t,” I simply answered. I knew he would make another set of lewd remarks if I’d tell him how good he looked in his very basic clothes. “I should’ve brought a shirt, I was not expecting this,” I shrugged the attire in.

“You’re getting bulkier,” he crossed his arms. “What made you go to the gym?”

Of course, I went to the gym because of him. He knew that, and as I stared at his absurdly beautiful smile, it was apparent that he wanted to hear it from me. I knew he wanted me to tell him that my disposition of physical fitness had drastically changed because of him. He inspired me without even trying.

“The hot guys and girls, of course,” I lied. I held a smile as I tied my shoes. “Do you like it? I worked hard for it.”

“I helped you out with it. s*x was too good that it made you change your output. At least give me some credit,” he said, walking to sit beside me. “But, yeah, I like it. I really do. You look so good. I could imagine now how people would f**k you with their eyes.”

“You’re crazy,” I retorted. I laced my shoes and stared up at him. “Why do you always assume that people would look at me that way? Can you stare at yourself? You look obnoxiously good. The attention is on you, and I know you’d like it.”

“I will be lying if I would say no,” he laughed. “I mean, f**k I worked hard for this, why not?” he said, moving forward to fold the sleeves of the shirt I was wearing.

“I wish I could say the same damned thing,”, I shifted around so he could fold the other side. “You’re really like my brother. The level of smug is on another caliber.”

He stood up. I folded the dress shirt and discarded it in my bag. “Where then? Got anything in mind?” I asked and stood up.

“The Orange County?” he smiled at me. He started raking my hair with his hand. “f**k, you look hot in that shirt. The color fits you.”

“You’re treating me like a damned kid,” I chuckled, letting him comb my hair with his fingertips. “This is our first date, you know? I should’ve dressed better. Sorry.”

“Maybe next time, then?” he said. He cupped my cheek and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “And I don’t see you like a damned kid. I see you as a succulent dessert that I will eat later tonight.”

His eyes darkened, and his breath faltered when he said it to me. “Really? Then, what kind of dessert am I?” I asked, enjoying the fact that it turned him on with just seeing me on his shirt. “Tell me then.”

“If I’d tell you, where’s the surprise in that?” he said, chuckling.

“You really are something,” I took my bag and sighed. “God, I’m f*****g nervous,” I said as we walked out of his condo, heading to the elevator door. We entered together, and yet again, that delicious scent of his mint-body wash proliferated in the space into my nostrils.

“You are something, too, David,” he pounded the button to the parking floor. “And I’m nervous, too. But I will try, alright?”

I looked at him and smiled. “Yeah, let’s try.”

“You will try being open?” he asked.

“I will. And you?”

“Help me figure out, David.”

I just nodded, the words of his cryptic and dangling like a giant query in the air as we walked out of the elevator, into the basement parking lot.